


i am made of memories

by stanbuckyy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Break Up, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Exes to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Kinda, M/M, Multi, PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, The Vow AU, Work In Progress, based off the Vow, temporary though!, will update tags as I go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2020-05-27 14:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19382428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanbuckyy/pseuds/stanbuckyy
Summary: Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers had been together for five years and married for two. Everyone who knew them knew they were in the presence of unconditional love. However, after a horrible car accident, Steve and Bucky’s whole life is tilted upside down. The traumatic accident affected Bucky’s mind as much as it did his body and he can’t remember anything from the last five years. Including Steve. As far as Bucky remembers, he's never met a guy called Steve Rogers but nothing can stand in the way of their bond and he'll go to all ends of the Earth for Bucky.(very shitty synopsis but a fic based off the vow.)





	1. 1

Bucky Barnes loved snow. Since he was a little boy he was mesmerized by how soft and silent the world became blanketed under a layer of snow. Seeing the cold hard sidewalks of Brooklyn become engulfed by the delicate fall of millions and millions of tiny snowflakes and the silent chime of the wind in the air, never failed to take Bucky’s breath away.

At eight years old Bucky would press his nose against the hard cold surface of the windows in Winnifred Barnes' kitchen that outlooked the streets of Upper East side of New York trying to absorb the first quite fall of the snow.

“Becca! Becca! C’mere, you hafta see this!” he’d shout urging his younger sister to come watch the snow fall with him. Rebecca Barnes at five years old didn’t couldn’t quite grasp her brothers excitement but always came to stand beside him. It became a Barnes sibling tradition of sorts. Every winter they’d stand on the cold tile of their kitchen floor to watch the snow fall, buzzing out of their skins with excitement for when they’d finally, _finally_ be allowed to play in out in the snow.

As the years drew by, Bucky’s fascination with the snow never wavered. Some of his best memories took place in the comfort of the blanketed snow. Like the first time he had his first kiss; when the cute girl from the bakery stand pulled him under the canopy of snow covered trees and kissed him. Or, the time he fell into the frozen lake in Central Park because Becca dared him he wouldn’t be able to stand on it. Yes, it hurt like a bitch and yes, Becca will never let him forget how he whelped when the ice first cracked but it was a memory he cherished. Or, the first night he met Steve Rogers.

Bucky was just leaving Cartinelli’s diner amped up on too many cups of coffee to fuel him into finishing his project for his Creative Writing class when a blur of golden fur came barreling into his legs. If it was any other day Bucky might’ve been able to catch himself and avoid a horrible fall. But no. The universe was out for him. He was sure of it. So with the combination of an icy footpath and many a sleepless night, Bucky found himself flat on his back, snow seeping through his clothes with a very excited golden furred Labrador circling him.

The lab immediately stopped circling him when he heard a deep voice from the distance call out “Bean!”. That was probably the owner Bucky thought to himself as he started to pull himself upright and dust off the snow that still clung to his clothes.

“Bean! Bubba you know we don’t run off like that.” Bucky looked up to the man the voice was coming from and _holy shit_ . Did Bucky hit his head on the ground when he fell because there’s no way his mind could’ve conjured something as…as beautiful as this man. The man was crouching on the ground checking over Bucky and the lab, or Bean it seems, searching for any injuries. His eyes met Bucky’s and again. Holy. Shit. Bucky _must have_ hit his head.

“…Uh…” His brain made what can only be described as the sound of a broken record. Bucky just couldn’t stop himself. In front of him was the most gorgeous looking blonde haired god-man looking at Bucky, with his stupid earnest ocean blue eyes and the little furrow that Bucky wanted to wipe smooth with his thumb. Or with his lips. Ugh, yup, he definitely needs to get his head checked.

But…now the guys hand was touching Bucky’s arm and looking at him very intently. Bucky shook his head as if clearing the fog that took over his brain and managed to catch the man saying “…ok?”

“Huh?” **Wow.** Eloquent Barnes. 

“Are you ok?” he asked again, eyes darting over Bucky, “I’m so sorry, she just gets so excited with the snow and, and just slipped out of my hand. I, um, are you ok?” He was still touching Bucky’s arm.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bucky lies, sure his ass hurts a little but _he_ didn’t need to know that, “just caught off guard.” He huffs out a laugh and starts to get up when the blonde man tries to help him up.

“I’m so sorry, this is my fault. I should have held on to her leash tighter.” He mutters as he frowns down at the golden mass of fur and then up to Bucky, “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” he says so earnestly Bucky’s heart might’ve just melted. 

“No, no! Honestly, it’s okay pal, just bad timing and stuff. It’s okay.” He tries to reassure him but the man doesn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. The man glances behind Bucky and see’s the door to Cartinelli’s.

“Can I at least buy you dinner? Or…or a drink?” he offers sheepishly, “I’d really like to, you know, as an apology.” And then he gives Bucky the most helpless puppy dog eyes and that's it. 

“You really don’t need to pal.” the guy visibly deflates, “But, okay. Only if you really want to.” Bucky says.

“Yes! Yes, I really do. Thank you!” the man says before bending down to tug Bean's leash to make sure she won’t run off, again. “Oh, uh my name’s Steve by the way. Steve Rogers.” He holds out his hand to shake Bucky’s with a smile spread across his face. Bucky can’t help the smile that spreads across his in turn as he returns the handshake. Their hands are cold from the freezing winter air, but Bucky could swear, he _swears_ , when their palms touch he felt warmth.

“Nice to meet you Steve. My name is Bucky.” Steve’s head tilts quizzically and Bucky already knows the question that’ll follow. “Well officially James Buchanan Barnes but that's always been a mouthful.” Bucky finishes. 

“I like it.” Steve replies simply trying to stifle the smile threatening to spread across his face. “It’s cute.”

And god help him Bucky could've done anything to see this man smile. “For an old man.” Steve finished smiling so wide the corners of his eyes were crinkling.

_Oh ho ho_ , Bucky thought, _two can play at that game_ . “Are you sure about that? Huh, _Mister Rogers_?” and Steve’s laugh rang through the air. Bucky already wanted to hear it again.

“Alright, jerk you got me there.”

“Punk.” Bucky replied, “now, how about that drink?”

* * *

Steve Rogers never liked the snow. The cold was never kind or gentle. Every winter, like clockwork, before the ice set into the air, you'd find Steve wrapped in about every blanket his mother could find, shivering or sweating or coughing up a lung. He lost count of how many winters he spent just watching the snow fall outside his hospital room window whilst Sarah Rogers forced him to finish the horrible hospital food or _so help me god Steven_. But that all changed when he met Bucky Barnes. Because if Bucky loved it, then so would he.

It was just past 10 in the evening when Steve and Bucky stepped out of the theatre, fingers interlaced furiously discussing the plot of the latest superhero movie instalment when Bucky stopped in his tracks.

“Stevie look! It finally started snowing.” It was the first year, as far as Bucky could remember, that the snowfall started so late into winter. 

“Looks like it finally did Buck.” Steve replied looking at the snow falling before turning to smirk at his husband, “Guess we can bust out the sled now?”

Bucky groaned and looped his arm through Steve’s, “You’re never going to let that go will you. Why did I even trust Becca to talk to you?” Bucky says with a huff dragging Steve down the street towards their car.

Steve pulls Bucky back towards him, surprising him with a fierce kiss, “Because you love me,” He says with a soft smile before leaning in again, “just like I love you.” He finishes pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cold bitten lips.

He feels more than hears Bucky hum in agreement, smiling against the kiss. There they were in the middle of the sidewalk. With snow falling like stars, lost in time, lost in each other.

And that was the last thing Steve knew. For one moment, he was lost in the safe arms of his love. Free falling like snowflakes towards Bucky. Towards his _home_. And the next moment he was being thrown across the sidewalk, his head crashing against the cold stone of the pavement as the speeding car in his periphery collided into Bucky. His vision went black.


	2. Chapter 2

The rhythmic beeping of the monitors was the first thing that pulled Steve into consciousness. For a moment he couldn’t place himself. The cold white walls hurt to look at and threw him off and it felt like he was dreaming. He blinked to clear his vision till he could make out the vague shape of a figure hunched in the chair a few feet away from him. Sam. Sam was slumped in the chair on his phone, fingers rapidly flying across the screen.

Where was he? Why was Sam here? Trying to lift his arms felt the same as heaving a tree trunk. His movements must have given him away because Sam was suddenly at his side asking him if he’s okay, if he needed water and if he could talk.

“Sam?” he croaked out, voice weak from disuse. “Where am I?”

Sam’s eyes darted over his face before moving to the beeping machine. He sighed before taking a deep breath and settling next to Steve. “You're in the hospital Steve. Just lay back for me, pal, gotta be real careful right now.”

“Hospital? What… why?” 

Sam seemed to struggle to find the words before deciding what to say. “You were in an accident, and… and you hit your head pretty hard.” He said it so softly but his words were sharp enough to cut through the blanket of fog in Steve’s mind. All of a sudden everything was crystal clear. A flood of memories exploded in his mind and he could see it all happen again. 

“Wh-Bucky… Bucky, where is he Sam?” he said, trying to pull himself up before strong hands pushed down again.

“Steve, it’s okay, calm down. Bucky will be fine. He is fine.” 

“What happened Sam, where is he? I… I need to…”

“What you need to do is sit your ass right there Rogers. Christ. Okay. Wait, just listen please.” he pleaded trying to keep Steve in bed without physically restraining him. “Bucky’s in the next room, he’s still unconscious but he’s fine St- for god’s sake stop trying to get up!”

But Steve wouldn’t sit still, he kept relentlessly repeating, “Where’s Bucky?”

“Ok - Jesus Christ - just listen and I’ll take you to Bucky.” It seemed like he just said the magic word and all the fight was out of Steve. Sam seemed to recognise this and relaxed. “You were in an accident and you hit your head pretty hard. Can you - uhm - well do you remember anything?”

“I… I remember it was cold and snowing. Buck and I just finished watching some movie I think? And we were outside… and then, oh God, he pushed me Sam. He pushed me out of the way! The car came and it was loud but I didn't even hear it and Bucky pushed me away from it and then…” and he couldn't say it. The words hung in the air, too heavy and too painful to say.

Sam exhaled a sharp breath and rubbed a hand down his face and his friend just noticed the exhaustion etched in his face. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept in days, tension pulled across his face. “Yeah man. I… Riley and I got a call three nights ago telling us to come to the hospital cause you’d been in an accident and when we came…” he trailed off, gently shaking his head. “God, Steve. We thought we lost you. The doctors told us the paramedics found you on the sidewalk with your head bleeding and found Bucky 10 feet away from you from where a car had crashed into him. Some fucker lost control of the wheel and swerved too hard, too fast.”

The words were like oil on water in his mind. He nodded trying to process Sam’s words. “Is he...?” Steve trailed off, barely audible, terrified to ask the question that could destroy him.

Sam smiled softly but it didn’t reach his eyes. “He’s going to be okay. He hasn’t woken up yet but the doctors have said he’s stable. He’s actually in the next room.”

He immediately started to sit up and could feel a sharp throbbing in the back of his head. That was going to hurt like a motherfucker when whatever concoction they were pumping him with wore off. “Can you take me to him? Please Sam, I just need to see him.”

Sam sighed. Years of being friends with Steve meant he was well versed in everything Steve Rogers and he knew better than trying to fight him on this. Steve might have shot up 10 inches and gained however many pounds of muscle, but he was still the skinny kid with a stubborn streak a mile long ready to prove the whole damn world wrong. So, instead, he supported his best friend’s weight over his shoulder and led him to the adjacent room.

Seeing Bucky lying so still in the cold white room of the hospital was like staring into a mirage. Internally struggling with coming to grips with whether what you were looking at was real or just another cruel trick of a delirious mind. Seeing the soft beautiful features of his husband peppered in black and blue bruises, whilst he laid so still against the stark white hospital sheets was cruel. Steve had lost count of how many mornings he’d spent over the years just tracing the soft arch of Bucky’s eyebrows, the strong line of his jaw and the delicate arch of his lips in the earling morning light, mesmerised. Seeing those beautiful features scattered with stitches and bruises triggered a visceral ache just below Steve’s sternum making it incredibly difficult to breathe.

Steve couldn’t even blink away the tears that filled his eyes. Bucky. His Bucky risked his life for Steve. And now he lay there terrifyingly still as he fought for his life. Tears silently rolled down his pale cheeks as he tried to dislodge the heavy weight in his throat. “He’s going to be okay, Sam. He’s going to come back to me.” 

Time lost all meaning in the following weeks. As soon as Steve was fit for discharge he never left Bucky’s side. Day in day out he’d sit at Bucky’s bedside. There were days that felt like time had stopped, keeping Steve in this tormented hell. But there were days that felt like miracles, where the doctor would return with good news. Due to the severe injuries Bucky had sustained during the accident, the hospital had put him under a coma to allow his body to heal from within. Bucky had sustained a severe head injury that if the ambulance had arrived minutes later, he might not have made it. But Steve couldn’t afford to think about that. Bucky was going to be fine. He was going to come back to him.

So he sat and waited. Held Bucky’s hand between his. Kissing each knuckle and hoping somehow that it’d be enough to give his husband the strength to wake up and come back to him. He even read to him; from small little stories to long elaborate tales. A habit Bucky had developed when Steve’s immune system unsurprisingly took a hit in the coldest months of the year and he was bed ridden with the flu. These small snippets of normalcy moored Steve to Bucky.

As the days grew by and the sharp cuts and bruises began to fade. Their friends and family visited, sat with Steve for hours, bought food and clothes for him when Steve refused to leave. From what Steve understood from what the doctors said, Bucky could gain consciousness soon. Most of his injuries were healing or well on the way of being completely healed and now it just depended on Bucky waking up. They couldn't predict when but Steve could feel it, hope blossoming in his chest and loosening the tight grip around his lungs making it slightly easier to breathe. Bucky would wake up. He would. He’d do it for Steve.

It was a couple days after when Steve was gently holding Bucky’s left hand intertwined with his, drawing soft circles over his palm, rambling away when he felt it. It was small and barely there but he felt the press of Bucky’s fingers tightening in his grip. Time stood still. Those seconds stretched for eternity and Steve felt the strong hold of Bucky’s fingers tightening enough to yank him down to earth. Steve could have cried. He’d deny it infront of anyone else but feeling Bucky's fingers move against his brought emotions strong enough to knock him out. 

“B-Bucky? Baby, can you hear me? I’m here. I’m right here.” He murmured against Bucky’s hands. “You’re an absolute jerk for keeping me waiting but I don't care. Just come back to me. I swear I’ll clean the bathroom for a whole month and you know I hate cleaning the bathroom, but I’ll do it. Do anything. C’mon, Buck.” Steve pleaded as his voice shook with every word. He couldn't give up. Steve wouldn't let him give up. 

However, as the minutes stretched into hours, Steve’s hope waivered.

It was a cold Wednesday afternoon when Natasha walked in to find Steve slumped in the chair next to Bucky’s bed. In any other situation the fiery haired woman would find the awkward tangle of Steve’s limbs on the chair more amusing. But she knew how many sleepless nights he had spent on that chair and how exhausted her friend must be. As if sensing Natasha’s presence, Steve jolted away, limbs untangling and eyes rapidly tracking his surroundings. His eyes landed on Bucky’s relaxed form before he found Natasha leaning against the frame of the hospital room door dressed to the nines in all black with a bag slung over her shoulder.

Natasha walked into the room and enveloped her friend in a hug. “Hey, old man” she whispered into his sleep matted hair before pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head, “how’s he been today?” 

“Hey Nat. Good. Same as usual. Doctor’s have said he should wake... but y’know. He’s being a real stubborn asshole about it.” he replied, stifling a yawn. He was grateful Natasha was here. He doesn’t know how he would have coped if it weren't for his friends. Well, that is if you called refusing to leave his husband's bedside for more than a couple hours, barely sleeping and eating or even functioning as a human as coping.

“Oh yeah?” Natasha replied before ruffling his mop of golden hair before pulling away to take a seat on the vacant sofa across the room, “sounds like someone I know.” she quipped with a smirk. 

Steve huffed out a laugh as he rolled his eyes. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.” 

“Hm. Have you eaten today?” she questioned, her expression morphing from amusement into concern.

Steve was self-aware enough to know that he was a shitty liar and even if he was the best liar, Natasha would know. Natasha always knew. His eyes fell to where he was unconsciously wringing his hands and replied, “Uh, yeah. I had a protein bar? A few hours ago, I think.”

“You think?” she deadpanned. “Steve. What do you think Bucky would say if he saw you like this? You’re not eating. You're barely sleeping. Your eye bags have eye bags.” This wasn’t the first time she’d tried to talk to Steve about taking better care of himself and she doubted it would be the last. 

Steve felt exhausted. The past few weeks had taken its toll on him and he could feel the exhaustion deep in his marrow. He knew Nat was right, that he should be taking better care of himself, that if Bucky were here, awake, he’d kick his ass six ways from Sunday. But… he wasn’t here. Steve rubbed both of his hands down his face, pressing his palms into his eyes to fend off the growing pressure headache. “I know, Nat. I know. I just… I just need...him to be okay first.” he let out before gently holding Bucky’s left hand in his. “He’s always taking care of me. Always. And I just … I need to be here, to take care of him first.” he sighed. “Once we’re out of here and back home and I know he’s safe, I’ll do better.”

Natasha watched him from where she sat. His hair stood haywire from dragging his hand through it. His clothes were wrinkled, no doubt been worn since yesterday. His skin had paled and stood stark against his growing stubble. His stubble had grown past what you would call a five o’clock shadow but still tame enough to not be a fully fledged beard. Honestly? He looked wrecked. 

“Okay.” she relented finally. They were probably going to have this same conversation again in the near future, but for now, Steve needed to eat. Natasha threw her shoulder length flame-red hair over her shoulder and opened the black tote bag slung over her shoulder before pulling out a box of tupperware. “But you have to eat. Now. Sharon made a huge pot of pasta last night and I had a feeling you’d be hungry.” 

Steve smiles gratefully at Nat. “Thank you. And tell Sharon I said thank you too.” He took the tupperware from Natasha. “How’re things by the way? With Sharon and the move?” It had only been a month since Natasha had moved in with her girlfriend, Sharon Carter, after two years together and Steve couldn’t feel happier for them. Natasha blossomed around Sharon, her whole aura lit up around her girlfriend, leaving her radiantly happy. But moving in with Sharon had left Nat as anxious as she was eager. She loved Sharon but what if it was too soon? What if she hates living with me? What if we broke up? What then Steve? After a long lunch where both Steve and Bucky reassured her that it was normal to have such anxieties because this was a big step forward for them but if she knew she’d be happier with Sharon than without, weren’t the anxieties worth the risk? Natasha had left lunch with a slight spring in her step and more determined and excited than ever. 

She tried to suppress the smile that stretched across her face and barely succeeded. “It’s amazing. I can’t believe it took us this long but it feels right, y’know? Like everything’s how it should be.” And Steve did know. It’s how he felt when he first asked Bucky to move in with him. 

He remembers it so vividly; as if he could ever forget. It was the first warm Sunday morning of summer and Steve had woken up to the sunshine on his face and Bucky’s face pressed against his torso, his arm thrown across Steve and his right leg tucked between Steve’s legs. Most of Bucky’s face was hidden away from the sunlight, courtesy of smushing his face against Steve’s body, but the rest of his face was bathed in the glow of the morning light. He was breathtaking. The morning light illuminated his strong jaw and cheekbones and cast shadows of his long lashes high on his cheeks. Long, dark-brown hair looked soft as silk as it pillowed his head like a halo, and his skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat from last night's activities. And he was breathtaking. Steve’s hand itched to touch him, to draw him and immortalise his beauty; but he didn't want to disrupt his sleepy boyfriend knowing it wouldn't end well for him. Bucky was not a morning person. 

That morning, Steve snuck out after a quick shower, making sure Bucky was still asleep and bought waffles and pancakes and so many pastries from the cafe down the street that Bucky loves so much. He would have made them himself but the last time he’d tried to make breakfast didn’t actually go to plan and he needed this to be perfect. 

Steve heard the soft patter of Bucky’s footsteps before he saw his sleep disorientated boyfriend come into the kitchen. Rubbing the last remnants of sleep away from his eyes, wearing only his boxers, Bucky walked straight into Steve and draped himself over his boyfriend’s back letting out a content sigh. Steve huffed out a chuckle before grabbing Bucky’s cup of coffee off the table and handing it to him with a quick peck to his lips. He knew better than to try and get Bucky to communicate before his morning coffee. 

After creating a good enough dent into his coffee, Bucky sent the cup down before turning to his Steve and wrapping his arm around him. “Mornin’,” he murmured against Steve’s lips before pressing kiss after kiss to his lips. He tasted like coffee and sunshine and Bucky. Steve wanted to stay wrapped in Bucky’s arms forever. “Where did you go?” he questioned, leaning back to note Steve’s state of dress for his lack of one. 

“Went to get breakfast.” he replied, pulling Bucky back in for more morning kisses. “Got waffles, and pancakes and maybe even those Danish pastries you love so much.” 

“From Laurents?!” 

“From Laurents.” Steve confirmed with a smirk as Bucky turned around to snag one of Laurents pastries suddenly noticing the table filled with all assortment of breakfast food that was way too much for two people.

“Woah, pal. I mean I know I was pretty amazing last night but this is too much, you shouldn't have.” Bucky’s words were muffled around a mouthful of pastry as he took a seat on one of the kitchen stools. “God! These are so stupidly delicious, Steve, honestly it doesn't make sense. What’d ya think they put in them to make them so good? Swear to God, I could eat a dozen and still want more.” 

Steve took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Well… how about just one everyday?” he asked shly, before moving to sit next to Bucky.

“Wouldn’t that be the dream pal, but they’re too far from my place and having them the next day just wouldn't do them justice.” Bucky said, already moving onto was his second pastry. Steve honestly didn’t know how his boyfriend could eat the way he did and remain so lean and fit. Unlike Steve, Bucky didn't need to keep a vigorous workout schedule to keep on top of his physique. 

“Well,” Steve dragged out the last syllable before he pulled a plate that he had kept to the side and pushed it towards Bucky and trailed off in question “how about..?”

Bucky cocked his head questioningly, chewing on his bottom lip till it was bright red as cherry wine. Was it just Steve or was it suddenly like a million degrees hotter? His ass was sweating, Jesus, Rogers, get it together!

“UHM. Moviem? What’s moviem, Stevie? D’you mean movie?” starring questioningly at the plate that was thrust towards him. The plate was ever so adorably stacked with pancakes and waffles and blueberries that spelled out ‘MOVIEM?’

Steve was so deep in his own internal spiral that he didn’t even register what Bucky had said for a minute. Wait, did he say moviem? “What?! No, ugh, one second.” he groaned, before pulling the plate to rearrange the misshaped blueberries before pushing it back to Bucky anxiously.

Bucky looked at the reformed plate of blueberry words with a slight fur between his brows “Move in?” He looked up from the plate to Steve, confusion etched across his face. “Move in?” he repeated. Steve’s eyes shifted anxiously between the plate and Bucky, hope softly glowing on his face. And then it clicked. Steve was asking Bucky to move in. To move in with him! To live together! 

Bucky’s eyes snapped to Steve as his whole body stilled. His eyes wide with wonder darting all over Steve’s face before he breathed out,“are you serious? This is real?” All Steve could do was nod yes before Bucky lunged forward and landed on Steve’s lap.

“Yes! Yes!” Bucky exclaimed gleefully, cradling Steve’s face in his hands and kissing him within an inch of his life. By the time they’d pulled apart from each other the breakfast had become cold and Steve had a few more hickeys than he woke up with. It was a fucking brilliant day. 

Steve looked at Nat and could see how happiness reflected all over her. “Yeah I know and I’m so happy for you, Nat.” Natasha pulled up a chair next to him and laid her head against Steve’s broad shoulder, getting comfortable. “So, am I late for the next Mr. Rogers fairytale special?” 

“You’re just in time.” And Steve set off narrating a story of mighty heroes that worked together as a team and risked their lives for the world and their loved ones. 

\-- 

It was into the late hours of the evening when Steve woke up. Not even aware of when he dozed off in the chair but suspecting it must have only been a while. Nat had left just before 8pm - when visiting hours closed - and it was only a few minutes past 10 according to his phone. Steve sat up and immediately felt the painful crick in his neck from sleeping awkwardly. As he stretched and tried to massage the crink away he felt a pair of eyes on him and looked up straight at a pair of deep blue eyes. Bucky was awake. And staring straight at him.

Steve froze. Breathing becoming shallow and heart racing. He was dreaming. Was he dreaming? No. No, he was awake. He knew he was awake because he could feel his nails digging painfully into his palms. 

Seconds beat by like waves crashing against rocks. Deafeningly loud but quiet. Bucky was the first to break his gaze away as his eyes absorbed his surroundings. His gaze fell down as he looked at his body, to his hands and then the machines surrounding him. Face devoid of any emotion or resemblance of pain or discomfort.

Pain. Bucky could be in pain. Just as quick, Steve bolted to Bucky’s side holding his husband's hand and checking him over for any pain or discomfort. Bucky startled and pulled his hand back staring back at Steve with confusion and… and fear. His face was like a beautiful blank slate but his eyes held so much that Steve couldn’t decipher. The same crystalline blue eyes that he woke to every morning for years, the eyes that held so much warmth in them it could melt the coldest glaciers were now looking at him… indifferently. And it hurt. Steve ached to understand everything Bucky was trying convey.

Bucky’s hand slipped from Steve’s and Steve stared at Bucky. Was his hand hurt? Had Steve unknowingly caused him pain by holding onto him? “Bucky?” he questioned cautiously, voice a bare whisper amongst the incessant beeping of the machines around them as to not startle Bucky further. “Bucky, it’s okay baby, I’m here.” He tried to reach out again to close the gap between them.

But Bucky pulled away further. Jerked back like he’d been burnt and recoiled his whole body as far away from Steve as the bed would allow. His voice was weak and rough from weeks of disuse, like rocks rubbing against each other. However, that didn’t prepare him for his husband’s next words. “...Who are you? And who the hell is Bucky?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Yes Im updating this after a year but Ive planned to update every Sunday so fingers crossed! This is the first fic I've ever written so feedback, comments of kudos would be really appreciated! Till next week <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic or first time I've written anything ever. I'd love to hear your thoughts! Any comments, pointers, feedback would be really appreciated!!
> 
> This fic was inspired by Mal's tweet https://twitter.com/mjoInirsteve/status/1141631423973142528 and is dedicated to her ❤️


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